


TF: Nexus || First Meetings

by RogueScarlett



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Cybertron Alliance theme, F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi, OC is deaf/hearing impaired, Original Shattered Glass continuity with a twist, but this is purely general fic anyways, creator is a big fan of found family trope that this original continuity was born, heroic decepticons and defector autobots are part of cybertron alliance called the nexus, slight mild flirting between Shatter and OC at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29946816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueScarlett/pseuds/RogueScarlett
Summary: Original Fan Continuity Universe || Oneshot snippet || Shatter, the last established member of Elita Prime's crew, meets Roxana for the first time and learns about her disability that lead to the start of their friendship.
Relationships: Original Techno-Organic OC/Shatter
Kudos: 3





	TF: Nexus || First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Sets: in the Late 2254, two years after Roxana and Drift/Deadlock were rescued.  
> Location: The Ark, somewhere in the northern regions of Canada.
> 
> I have a really limited vocabulary that I know by heart and memory. This oneshot was personal to me and Roxana’s hearing impairment is heavily based on my experiences. Also, this was rewritten and reposted on here and tumblr.
> 
> Shoutout to my friends: Darkrider and Maczac for being patient and encouraged me to write this.

The red triple changer vented a bored sigh out of her processor sitting on the medbay berth after a much needed check-ups since her escape from the Functionalists. Shatter wasn’t in a mood to scour the Internet as the way to pass the time via her mainframe. A familiar white and orange figure at the corner of her optic from the other side of the medbay caught her interest. She recalled the time the senior medic had picked up both her and Dropkick from the roughest streets from the brink of falling victims to circuit-booster overdose. With that, she took a chance to depart the berth to the other side of the medbay. Her optics drifted onto the senior medic seated by the workstation fixated on what presumingly a small nude-coloured device laid on the surface. She couldn’t identify what the device supposedly is from the distance, or zoom in for a clearer view but it was too small for Shatter to pinpoint.

Then she stopped in her track the second her red optics wandered from the workstation towards the corner and spotted an organic with an unusually poppy-red hair, worn in a jumper dress and leggings with a red heart-shaped pendant around her neck, seated in front of the medbay’s large window that oversees the forestry scenery descended into a dark, pouring rainfall night.

She began a quick scan onto the organic for identification, then within seconds, the organic’s name and image appeared on her mainframe. Not so soon her scan brought up a profile she copied from Functionalist’s database that appeared on her HUD interface.

_**Name:** Roxana Valiente.  
_ _**Gender:** Female.  
_ _**Creation Date”:** 31st October, 2234, presumingly.  
_ _**Ethnicity:** Puerto Rican-Guatemalan.  
_ _**Parents:** [DATA UNAVAILABLE]  
_ _**Last Seen:** Fleeing borders between Mexico and Guatemala with the rogue traitor: Deadlock. Whereabouts are unknown–she could be anywhere in Guatemala or escaped to South America based on speculations.  
_ __**Note of Interest: [CLASSIFIED, PER MEGATRONIA OF DECEPTICON JUSTICE DIVISION’S REQUEST.]**

Shatter remembered this name and face–about two stellar cycles ago, she discreetly listened in to the conversation where she overheard Megatronia commanded Kaon to update the High Priority List with this “ _girl_ ”’s profile, as they quoted, “ _found alive and brought to her._ ” She doesn’t want to assume theories on why Megatronia expressed interest to capture this woman alive. Shatter wasn’t aware that Deadlock was accompanied with an organic– _correction; a techno-organic_ –at the time she tipped off intel to the Nexus, which they staged an intervention and rescued them.

This wasn’t the first she heard about the existence of techno-organics with DNA varying from different organic species, thus counting the likes of the two techno-organics assisgned as Empress Minerva’s personal guards were mutated with the Hive’s CNAs. This Roxana is albeit different from them, but that didn’t stop Shatter from being curious about her.

She had run-ins with Deadlock back on Cybertron who was renowned for his assassin works carried out by Functionalist’s biddings. He was much more… important to Megatronia than she was within the Functionalist ranks. Shatter had not properly introduced herself to Deadlock’s charge– _Drift’s to be precise_ –and she decided now is a good time to make her acquaintance while Ratchet was preoccupied at the workstation. Shatter wasted no time to make her approach towards the red-haired techno-organic.

“Hey.” She greeted with a silvery tone, she rested her servos onto the surface carefully not to startle the young woman.

There was no response from Roxana’s reaction to the first greeting. Shatter studied her briefly, observing the calm but still woman sat with arms huddled around her legs for warmth with her optics stared intensely out of the window to the scenery of rainfall forest, and her poise steadily normal. Could she be distracted by the rain that she didn’t notice nor acknowledge the greeting? Maybe Shatter could try again to push aside the awkwardness.

Shatter stood beside her eying the scenery with a calm, collected look. Her processor scrambled to mull over the words to choose the topic of interest as a way to spark a conversation, and she hoped to get a reaction from the techno-organic to notice her presence amid the massive height differences between the two.

“I’ve read that rain has quite an calming effect on one’s anxiety according to human experts.” Shatter tried another attempt, “It’s soothing when you listen to it. We never get a chance to experience rain back on Cybertron.”

Still no response. The techno-organic is still unmoving and unaware. Shatter raised an optical ridge at this peculiar, but strange, behaviour despite her experiences has shown her that the organic are sociable species through her double-agent line of work surveillance with The Empire’s Headquarters. Before she could attempt a third round, she was abruptly cut off by a voice from the workstation.

“She cannot hear you.” Ratchet informed her gently in his usual gruffness to save her the silent treatment humiliation.

_What?_

It took Shatter a moment to process the newfound information, and turned to face Ratchet who was attentively glued onto the small device within his servos. She eyed over to the other one that rests on top the box and upon closer inspection–the nude-coloured device shaped like a crescent moon with a tube attached to the transparent earmolds, then realisation dawned on her.

_They are hearing aids._

“She _can’t_ hear?” She emphasised to repeat the medic’s words, “You mean to say she's… deaf?”

“Correct.“

Oh. They definitely neglected to inform her of this development. The profile never explicitly stated her medical records either.

Ratchet’s digits carefully held the small nude-coloured device and set on fixing it, he continued, "Her audial receptors are irreparable that rendered her profound deaf upon her activation and there’s no cure for the condition she suffered. Without her hearing aids, she’s extremely vulnerable without sounds.”

Shatter felt bad for this techno-organic. She couldn’t have imagined what it’s like to live without sounds through damaged audial receptors. She was no stranger to Cybertronian sign language–a tactic she used to communicate with Dropkick when they had to be silent on missions. Truthfully, she wished she had noticed the signs after she learnt and studied about organics’ disabilities. It’s hard to predict otherwise.

“I hadn’t realised.” Shatter admitted, “I was not informed about her condition.”

“Ah, _let me guess_. The others neglected to mention? Not even The Functionalist’s databases?” Ratchet raised a questionable optical ridge, to which Shatter shook her helm and confirmed his answer, he resumed to fixate on the hearing aid with a low mutter, “Tsh, typical.”

Shatter shrugged her shoulder, “I’ve been out of the loop for two stellar cycles mainly because Megatronia started the mole hunt when she suspected “ _someone tipped Elita Prime off_ ”. Things had been hectic enough as it was which forced me to cut all communications for our sake.”

Ratchet hummed, “I’m going to take a wild guess that Megatronia discovered you are the mole?”

“Unfortunately.” Shatter answered, “Megatronia expressed her disappointment after one of her best officer defected a long time ago. More fool to her.”

Ratchet made an amused snort, “Understatement of the cycle.”

Deciding to change the topic to the current interest, Shatter pointed to the hearing aid held within Ratchet’s digits, “I assume those are the hearing aids she’s relying on? Digitally-made?”

“Yes,” the senior medic affirmed. He tugged and removed the earmold cautiously from the hearing aid’s earhook taking great care not to pierce a split with his sharp tools. He connected the hook of one hearing aid to a coupler wired to the Analyzer which was linked through the computer terminal.

He averted his attention to the terminal screen to run a sound test, “They’re only temporary reliance for the time being. Nautica and I had agreed to conduct a development project into functional hearing aids with the use of our technology. Soundwave often pitched in to assist. We’re still in the process to scavenge the materials as best as we can without detecting the ‘Cons. Earth’s cybernetic technology was… _unreliable_.”

“Why is that?” she asked.

“She’s a Cybertronian techno-organic–Roxana had issues with these digitally-made hearing aids for vorns.” The senior medic tells her, “Sometimes they work, sometimes she hears feedback, sometimes they break beyond repair, sometimes it has an impact on her mental health. Her words, not mine.”

Shatter nodded understandingly. _Impact on mental health?_ _Troubling._ Her gaze drifted from Ratchet to the techno-organic who was still staring off in her own dazed world that she hasn’t acknowledged the triple changer’s presence–Shatter could see she found calmness in the rain. Then, a thought came to mind.

“You said she’s profound deaf, correct?” Shatter questioned, expressing her interest to understand the techno-organic’s disability a little more than what she had covered, “How much sound loss had she suffered?”

“About ninety or more decibels in both of her audial receptors. Any speeches, amplified or com-links, are next to impossible for her. She had a hard time understanding Teletraan-X.” Ratchet replied as his digits tapped away on the keyboard, “Ran a hearing test on her as part of research notes… But, ah, I had to refrain from conducting more without triggering her anxiety from extreme noise levels.” He eyed over to survey the results on the terminal screen, “I admit, this is a new territory for me.”

“Was it?” Shatter tilted her helm with a puzzled look, “Are you implying hearing impairment are rare amongst Cybertronians?”

“Well, yes, it’s something we’ve only recorded a few times.” Ratchet confirmed, not shying away from the facts, “Truthfully, I had never dealt with a severe hearing impairment in my medical field of expertise. Any inflicting damages can be repairable or easily replaced, unfortunately, a techno-organic does not have a self-repair system like we do.”

The latter part sounded more worryingly than Ratchet would like to admit–though, Shatter took this as a mental note to remember for later. Now that she thought more on this–it would explain the vague mentions about the project required to understand Roxana’s disability and the medic’s hopes to improvise with Cybertronian technology tailored for her.

An idea piqued her curiosity based on her past experience.

“I need to ask, does she sign?” She inquired with interest, “ASL, BSL?”

“According to Drift, very little I’m afraid,” the senior medic vented lamentably, recalling the conversation that he had with Drift, “Her upbringing hadn’t adapted her to take up sign language mostly because she relied on her hearing aids twenty-four-seven.”

“Not even Neocybex?”

“She’s still learning, but not very fluent.”

“Ok.” Shatter noted, “What about lip-reading? I mean, she was taught to lip-read given her impairment?”

Ratchet shifted his optics from the screen to Shatter very briefly before he narrowed his optical ridges, “And, since when you’re suddenly an expert in these topics?”

“Since I agreed to act as a double agent four million cycle ago.” Shatter reminded him, “The perks granted me allowances to learn and study organics cultures–disabilities included–without giving myself away. Dropkick and I used to rely on sign language for communications back home.”

“Ah, point taken.” Ratchet paused for a moment, taking a quick glance over to Roxana to check on her, “To answer your question, Roxana can lip-read when we communicate with her face-to-face now that I think about it. Though, she caught on with her hearing aids unmistakably well.”

“Has she ever tried lip-reading without her hearing aids?”

“Uh.” Ratchet hesitated, “Not really.”

Shatter casted a frown at the medic, clearly perplexed by this, “You mean to tell me that none of you have **_NEVER_** tried communicating to her without her hearing aids on? _At all?_ ”

Ratchet shook his helm in response, “No. We did not attempt it without making her feel more vulnerable or cause distress.”

“And?” Shatter stared at the medic with arms crossed over her chassis, “Tell me, what happens if, one solar-cycle, her hearing aids “ _break_ ” and she’s unable to rely on them while away from the Ark, what would you do?”

Ratchet paused–he clearly hadn’t thought about a possible outcome thoroughly–it was something to consider his concerns. The lack of definite response confirmed Shatter’s answer.

“ _Unbelievable_.” Shatter pinched the nose bridge with a low grumble, then she stood still as her optics dimmed into a faraway look, “What Earth languages was she fluent in?”

“Basic English and Spanish. Why do you ask?” Ratchet questioned her. Within a second, he watched her briefly turn on her pedes to step away, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to communicate with her.” Shatter tells him as she searches for an available seat, “And introduce myself to her…. _Properly._ ”

Sounds or not, she’s willing to give this a try when no-one else had attempted this before when posed a question for what happened if Roxana’s hearing aids died on her during a mission.

“Actually, I’m still in the middle…–” Ratchet was cut off abruptly the second he heard a metal stool pulled across the floor. He exasperated a huffy vent and resumed his full attention onto the Analyzer to repeat the same process with the other hearing aid, “… _Ugh. Nevermind_.”

Shatter carried the metal stool with careful approach not to startle the techno-organic towards the desk within the corner of the medbay. Roxana was lost in a daydream eying the calm rainy scenery soothed her mind in a deafening silence. The scenery alone reminded her of a starry light projector that relieved her from anxiety after a nightmare. Vibration of movements creeped up behind her–she presumed it was either Ratchet attended to his duties or collected the tools he needed until a large shadow casted over the right side blocked half of the window view to a moon within a darkening sky. Roxana craned her neck upwards to an unfamiliar tall Cybertronian figure, donned in medium red finish with silver plating, appeared in front of her with red optics stared down.

 _Another Neutral from Cybertron? Wait, no. Red optics are not common to the Neutral-aligned,_ she tilted her head with a ponder until she spotted an emboss black insignia on the lower side left wing, _Definitely another defector from the Functionalist or the D.J.D then?_

There’s something captivating about this figure’s red optics.

Shatter set the stool down by the desk and raised her servo to wave at her and succeeded to attract the techno-organic’s undivided attention, “Hello.”–then she began to sign through her servos and spoke slowly–“You must be our newest addition.”

“Hola.” Roxana shyly greeted back, but the overwhelming nerves edged in slowly as her optics glanced back and forth between Shatter and Ratchet anxiously, her voice cracked with a stammer, “I-I’m sorry, I can’t hear very well. I don’t sign either…”

“I know. Ratchet already told me.” Shatter spoke slowly with a force of habit to sign, which made her really miss Dropkick.

Roxana lowered her green optics onto the mouthplate to read the words with no sounds through her audial receptors, which to her own surprise, she understood what Shatter had said to her. At the mention of his name caught the red medic’s piqued interest to oversee the vocal exchange between the two curiously.

“Oh.” Roxana wasn’t sure whether to feel reassured or not.

Shatter smiled and pointed her digit to the stool, “Do you mind if I join you?”

Roxana focused her attention on the slowness of Shatter’s mouthplate without her own hearing aids to help her. Lip-reading without sound alone was challenging at most, if not tough she claimed on her part. The downside of this? It didn’t stop her constant worry over mishearing or misunderstood certain wordings. Without succumbing to distress unable to hear–she turned to face Ratchet as the way to seek out guidance support. Ratchet noticed this and gave her an encouraging nod. He was reassuring her not to panic–she inhaled sharply to push the creeping anxiety at bay. Roxana averted her attention to Shatter with a warm smile, relieved to know Ratchet’s at her side to speak on her behalf in case it became too much.

“No, not at all.” she said politely.

The red triple changer mouthed her thanks and took a seat to join her company in an exchanged silence facing each other. Shatter studied the techno-organic’s body language for any signs of discomfort and anxiety, whereas Roxana’s keen optics marvelling the triple changer’s appearance with fascination–this one was as intimidating as her Guardian, Drift, saved for the red finish, no filials and unusual wing structures.

 _Definitely not a seeker–their wings don’t function like the way this one has,_ Roxana’s mind racing with numerous guesses to figure out this stranger’s frame-type, _Maybe a triple-changer like Drift was–?_

Then, her thoughts cut off the second she noticed servos raised, presumingly to sign, Roxana eyed attentively onto the mouthplate awaiting to read the words.

“Perhaps, an introduction in order?” Shatter suggested to keep the conversation engaged, “My name is Shatter, would you mind telling me who you are?”

“Roxana.” She replied with little confidence that brought her out of her nervous shell, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

_Well, it’s a good start._

Shatter wanted nothing more for the two of them to get settled comfortably with each other’s company, though, her senses picked up Roxana’s moods from the conversation alone had lifted her spirits, and eventually showed that she is warming up slowly to her that brought her out of a shy shell.

_It did help that Shatter knew what she was doing and being patient, whether it was her experiences with Cybertronian sign languages or not._

“Likewise, _friend Roxana_.”

A confused expression washed over her face. Did she really say ‘ _friend_ ’, or did she read it as “ _fiend_ ”? Roxana wasn’t sure if she caught that word correctly, or maybe she misread it properly. It would be so much easier to have her hearing aids to catch that again. She hasn’t considered herself as a friend to a stranger she just met–she never made any new friends due to the way the society looked down harshly on her disability like they viewed her as an abomination. The rain splattered hard against the window had distracted her mind absently to block out pieces of bad memories, then she stared up at the Decepticon’s red optics in a calming manner–they were warm, and so hauntingly, beautiful that resembled a ruby gemstone.

“Do you like the rain? I understand they can be therapeutic.”

Roxana tilted her head in question, “Do I like the rain?” she repeated to make sure as Shatter nodded affirmatively, she hummed quietly, “I like watching the rain, but I don’t like being out in it.”

Shatter chuckled, “I don’t blame you.” then she moved a digit to point at her mouthplate with a serious look, “Can you understand what I’m saying?”

Roxana answered honesty with her hand raised in a ‘ _so-so_ ’ motion, “It’s difficult without any sounds for me to understand properly, but as long you’ll speak slowly for me to lip-read.”

Shatter glanced away from Roxana to cast a smirk to Ratchet, “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“ _Show-off_.” Ratchet countered back with a scoff.

Ratchet approached the desk with the hearing aids laid neatly on the palm of his servo and gently tapped onto Roxana’s shoulder with the tip of his claw. Usually the bots have their subtle ways to alert Roxana’s undivided attention through shoulder taps or text messages sent to her phone. Drift, on the other hand, relied on the familial bond with a gentle and affectionate tug between their pulsing sparks.

Roxana turned to the source of the taps on her shoulder, only for her gold optics dawned upon the servo patiently held out to her, she took the hearing aids from the palms. Ratchet stood aside to await for the verdict–engaged in a muted conversation with Shatter. Roxana pushed the earmoulds without pressing too much force to avoid discomfort into her inner ears and hooked the hearing aid behind the helix before she switched the buttons on. A few seconds pass, the silence filled with sounds echoed to life filled with the low hums from machinery and computers followed by heavy rains splattered against the window. There were no buzzing distortions heard through her hearing aids so far, but that didn’t stop her to double check and test the waters to be sure.

“ _Doctor Ratchet?_ ” A computer voice spoke over the intercom, “ _Soundwave and Nautica have requested for your assistance with the groundbridge. Report to the bridge as soon as possible_.”

Ratchet cursed in Cybertronian tongue and groaned loudly. Roxana glanced upward to a frustrated Ratchet–she couldn’t tell what Teletraan-X had said over the intercom, all because the words she heard are intelligible like they were muted through her hearing–she figured something’s up from the way Ratchet expressed. Roxana hasn’t fully grasped Cybertronian language to understand it completely.

_Some would proclaim English as a whole was a difficult language to learn. But the hardest part was listening in all of it._

Roxana let herself distracted to gather her bearings as her mind preoccupied onto the sounds than the engaging conversation. The sounds were all clear with no static feedback or weird distortions–Ratchet had fixed the temporary problem within her hearing aids that bothered her and she’s relieved to have it back to normality without any interference.

“–can keep an optic on her if you’re worried about leaving her unattended? I don’t have anything to occupy myself until Prime and Starscream returned.”

Roxana whipped her head around with a surprised look. She was not mentally prepared to hear Shatter’s voice and barely paid attention to anything else but her voice alone. The now-former Decepticon’s voice was unlike what she had originally predicted, but truthfully? The way her vocal processor laced with a low, gruff, if not intimidating, tone was extremely pleasant to hear, and the voice alone set off a shiver crept up her spine. She shouldn’t be thinking about this! It was too intoxicating to feel attracted to her voice.

“ _Wow_ …” Roxana exhaled sharply, without thinking, she blurted out loud, “You’re not exactly what I expected you to sound like.”

Ratchet and Shatter both exchanged questionable looks. Roxana freezed up in a paused silence. _Oh slag._ They both turned to her with raised optical ridges. _Uh oh–why are they looking at her like that_. Roxana felt her cheeks heated up from embarrassment. _Did she really say what she was thinking out loud? Primus, help her mortified soul!_ She swore in her native tongue wanting to mentally slap herself and couldn’t bring herself to look at Shatter in the optics.

 _If only there’s a rewind button on the time_ , she would have at least five seconds of her life back before she blurted what she was thinking. _Awkward_ , she thought.

Shatter stared and studied her behaviour detecting the rising heat temperature surrounding the techno-organic face, then she tilted her helm with a knowingly smirk. And, _chuckled_ at her. Roxana’s cheeks became warmer than a few seconds ago. Her mind drowned in voices screaming at her to run and hide from the dreaded humiliation.

“ _Oh?_ ” Shatter teased playfully, which is definitely not helping Roxana’s case, she leaned forward as her tone lowered, “And, what did you expect?”

Roxana let out a nervous laugh. Her fingers twirled into the strands of her red locks and shyly looked away to avoid Shatter’s gaze, she stammered, “Well…. Not like what… um, what you– I mean, this seductively deep–. Oh, _mierda_."

She fudged up her words, no thanks to her spluttered stammer.

Ratchet cleared his voice-box with a loud ahem, unimpressed by it, ” _Are you two done flirting_ , because there’s an important matter that needs addressing.”

_Saved by the bell._

Roxana sent an apologetic look at the senior medic–she’s probably thankful he stepped in to interrupt them before she got mortified. Shatter grinned in amusement–the compliment about her voice alone was mostly flattering in a way–she decided not to press any further and leaned back with a quiet chuckle. Ratchet acknowledged the apologetic look with a smile eager to resume to a pressing concern.

“How’s the hearing aids working for you?”

_Oh right, the hearing aids!_

“I don’t hear any weird static at the moment. My hearing aids are working normally.” Roxana beamed, now that the embarrassment was long forgotten, “Thank you, _Mom_.”

“You’re welcome, kid.”–then he raised a digit at Shatter with a dull expression, ceased whatever she was about to ask–” _Not a word of this_.”

Shatter made an amused snort.

Feeling satisfied, Ratchet picked up a rag from the workstation to wipe his servos clean on it, "Alright, my assistance was requested immediately at the bridge, is there anything else that needs attending before I go?”

"No.” Roxana shook her head, “I’m good.”

“Ok.” Ratchet tossed the rag onto the surface nearby before he pointed a digit at Shatter, “I will leave you in Shatter’s care for a couple of joors, will you be alright with her?”

“She’ll be fine with me, Ratchet.” Shatter reassured him. “You mustn’t let us keep you waiting from your duties. Go.”

Roxana waved her hands to shoo away the senior medic rather than letting him continue to stall for her sake with her whispers urging him. Ratchet nodded and excused himself from the medbay in a hurry. The medbay filled with colder temperature crept up to her and her body shook with a shudder from contact. She doesn’t want to spend the rest of her evening to remain within a cold room when she would rather be somewhere more warm.

“I don’t know about you,“ Roxana pushed aside the awkwardness, she turned to Shatter and rubbed her hands in an effort to try warm up, "But I could do with a hot cocoa right now.”

_The image of a steaming hot cocoa filled with a swirl of whipped cream on top was too good to resist the temptations as her sweet tooth cravings were kicking in._

“Tell you what, _friend_ Roxana?” Shatter hummed thoughtfully, detecting her body temperature, she extended her servo out for Roxana to climb on, “Why don’t you give me a tour around the Ark and then we’ll grab some fuel and hot cocoa of your preference afterwards. Sounds good?”

Wait, did she call her ‘ _friend_ ’? She had not misread it after all! This was the first time someone, a stranger, called her a friend. She gave the red triple changer a soft smile and stepped over to climb and rest onto the heated palm of her servo.

“Sure!” Roxana agreed, “I’ll be happy to give you a tour.”

“Hey? Did you really called Ratchet ‘ _Mom_ ’?” Shatter asked curiously awaited for the techno-organic adjusted comfortably on her servo and carried her out of the medbay.

“Yeah, ” the techno-organic affirmed, clinged tightly for dear-life, “He took his “ _Mother Hen_ ” role too seriously and had the tenacity to fuss over me, why you asked?”

“No reason.” Shatter smirked at the image she projected in her processor.

_A start to a friendship._


End file.
